Respite
by Fault
Summary: Post movie. It's just the beginning of the vampire war. What are Priest and Priestess going to do to stop the vampires? Can they win if they find enough Priests to stand with them? And what are Hicks and Lucy doing during all this?
1. Chapter 1

**Dusk, the day Priest delivers the head of a vampire to the Church.**

Priestess stands in the burn-out town of Jericho, awaiting Priest's return. As night falls over the wastes, the wake of a jet-bike stirs the dust into clouds. The speed and patterning of the wake indicate it is a Priest's bike. As it approaches, she can see it is him, returning alone. She sighs, relieved.

He looks grim as he parks his bike and dismounts. She goes to him, helping him move the bike under cover, hurrying before full dark comes, and the possibility of vampires with it. Tearing off his goggles he says. "Our message is delivered. The Church has proof a new vampire war is starting."

"Good."

"We will need armies."

"Yes. But not today. You've seen to that. I have contacted other Priests. They are coming. We will be ready." Priest nods. She can see he is weary, and has not paused to wash the blood from his face and close-cropped hair. She leads him to the building. "Come, you're injured."

"Yes.. yes, of course." Priest glances down at his bloodied hand, as though he's forgotten the blood is his own for a moment and is embarrassed by his lapse of concentration. The Priestess leads him inside. The room is pleasantly warm after standing in the rapidly cooling Wastelands night. The walls are reinforced. The windows barred with steel. A good stronghold. The Priestess bars the door behind them.

"I found an old strong-room in the basement: thick walls, strong bars." She gestures to the portal in the floor. "Hicks and your daughter are in there now. Asleep, if I'm not mistaken."

Priest slowly lowers himself into a chair, careful movements, trying to disguise his injuries. The Priestess is not fooled. He continues calmly. "Good. This was just the first. There will be others. Our foe was a vanguard. He was smarter and stronger than any but a hive queen. But there will be others. Soon." She hands him a cup of hot soup. He makes a simple gesture of gratitude, and takes a drink.

"Was it really him? In the black hat. Was it our fallen comrade?"

A pause. "Yes. It was once him. Infected by a hive queen. Not a Familiar, but close." Neither wanted to use his name, the name he carried before he was a Priest. That man was long gone.

"It was cruel of the hive Queen to use him like that."

"He was kind. He would have been appalled by the death of other Priests."

"May they all rest in peace." Silence as they bow heads in remembrance. "Do you think the Church will follow us against the vampires?"

"I don't know. " He sighs. "Many saw the evidence of their return. Civilians and the clergy both. They can no longer deny it. They must see that we still fight only for God, no matter if we break the directives of the Church."

"Good. Now eat. We're safe for now, tonight we can rest. Please." He nods, and Priestess watches his stiff spine melt. The wariness and self control vital to Priests cracks, showing the exhaustion and pain underneath. Her voice is gentle as she says. "Don't think of the war any more tonight. Rest as best you're able. Promise me this concession to your recovery."

"I promise." He finishes the soup, and Priestess refills it.

"We will work once you wake."

"Then do not let me sleep too long." He drinks the soup quickly. She takes the empty cup and hands him a second, this one full of hot sweet tea. At the casual brush of her fingers against his own he goes still a moment, his eyes looking into her own. Then his face turns downward towards the tea, his whole body radiating defeat, and guilt.

The Priests were not only gifted, they were trained in secret arts, and received holy blessings, it made them tougher, stronger, faster. More than human. The superior forging of the righteous. She can see that Priest has pushed himself beyond even that. Too much injury, too much energy expended, too long awake. But still, were they anywhere but a safe room, in any company but each other's, she knows he would maintain his composure still.

As he finishes the tea with a sigh, Priestess says "First a bath. Then bandages. Then into the strong room. I will take first watch."

She takes the pot of hot water off the stove, her bruised body protesting as she takes its weight. The tub is half-filled already, in front of the stove. This last pot heats the rinse water and gives a final extra warmth to the bath. She gestures to it, and moves to go to the kitchen.

"Wait." He says, then looks away. "I cannot wash my back like this. My injuries." Priestess looks at his uncertain stance, his impatience with himself.

"I am a Priest." He says, frustrated.

She takes a breath. "As am I. Before all else, we are soldiers of God. It's only natural to stand by one another both in and after battle. I will show proper decorum, and look away except to wash your back."

"Thank you." He says, grateful for her presence and her tact.

She helps take of his battle garments, stuck to his body with blood. She looks at him then. She feels guilty for it, but she wants to confirm that it's the same body she's seen injured a hundred times. Still carries the same scars from wounds she has seen laid upon him. She is relieved and sad to see that it remains as it always was, gravely damaged but unbroken yet. Beautiful in its strength. She is grateful that her injuries are not so great, her exhaustion not so complete, it might break her to see him like this again. One of the few consolations of the peace times was that he was safe. She turns away as he removes the last of his clothing.

She hears him lower himself into the bath. Silence, but for the trickling of water and Priest's pained breathing as he washes his wounds.

"Tell me of your life." He says, exhaustion loosening his rage, and thereby his tongue. "These past years, living in the cities."

"There was little in my life other than trying not to frighten people away from giving me a job. It's difficult to compare, the Church is all I really remember. But it was hard, because I could do nothing but remain a Priest. Sometimes I tried to hide it, just to gain companionship. It never lasted long. There were none that understood, and I rarely saw the other Priests."

"Myself also. My rosary bound my hands against the actions of a Priest. But I remained true to my path, until Lucy was taken." His voices is grim as he says. "Now I have gone against the Church."

"But it remains to be seen if we go against God. No matter what the Church says, I cannot believe that you have gone against God. You have done everything only to protect human life."

"Our Vow was to be killers at the Church's behest. I devoted myself to it."

"We all did."

"It is all I am."

"You are also a father protecting his daughter."

He he turns to look at her, his gaze intense with the desperate hope that this is true and righteous. Her back is to him, straight but for the graceful curve of her neck pulling her head to the side so he can hear her better.

She continues. "We follow God's path, not the Church's. The Church has shown no care for us, they would not even allow us to gather and console one another in the wake of the war. They broke their vow to us first."

"Yes, I think I felt that, for all these years."

"None of the remaining Priests could find you. We looked. The Church would not say where you'd settled. "

"I am sorry. The past weighed heavily on me, I lived the solitary life that came to me."

She is not sure what to say to this, and gets back to cleaning Priest's battle garments, washing the blood from them and examining the holes. After an interval he says.

"Only my back remains to be cleaned."

Priestess moves carefully to his side, taking the washer from Priest deftly and neatly washing the caked on blood from his back, not touching the angry wound on the left.

"Your shoulder." Her disapproval leaks into her voice.

"I was pinned to a wall. Hung like a picture, really."

She examines the bruised and torn flesh carefully without letting the water touch it. She can guess who gave such an injury, vampires use teeth and claws. "It's a terrible wound."

"I've had worse."

"Not often." Priestess puts down the washer and steps away. The two of them are silent as Priest dries and dresses himself in clean clothes found in the house. They think their own thoughts.

Priestess thinks of how today she told Priest that she had wished the death of his wife would free him. It was her confession that underneath it all, she still held for him a flawed, selfish love, one of a woman towards a man. Perhaps it was cruel of her, but she could not go with him on false pretences. Now he knew, and it had almost cracked his resolve. But he had remained adamant. So she would return to the status of colleagues that they had both managed to maintain all those years.

They both felt it. After training side by side, standing side by side in battle, saving and supporting one other through the darkest days of war they had an iron bond. It was only natural that they trust one another completely. Neither blamed the other for being human underneath their training. Under her blank face, Priestess holds a consuming love. One she fights and embraces by turns, depending on which gives her more strength. His? Behind his walls of self control, it could be the protective affection of a big brother, or something as ugly and passionate as her own. There was no way to tell. But Priestess knows that he is conflicted enough about caring for Lucy, let alone herself.

"I am ready." He says. Priestess turns to find him in only pants, his injured torso bare for her examination.

"Then I will be quick." She puts pain tablets on the table and Priest takes them without a word. She examines his wounds thoroughly, cleaning them and stitching them, salving or bandaging as required. Her touch is professional and gentle. Priest barely tries to stifle his cry of pain as she pushes against each of his ribs.

"Bruised, perhaps cracked. But not broken. The muscles are torn. I have blessed salve. Should I use it on you?" They both knew that while it healed you swiftly, the salve brought great pain, and could scar you badly. It was the recourse of those for whom the battle was not over, despite significant injury.

"Yes. There is little choice in the matter. I will sleep despite." She moves at last to his shoulder. As she examines it further, she frowns. "You are lucky your collar bone was not broken." She puts her hand in his.

"Squeeze my hand." He does so, his pinky and ring finger grip only weakly.

"Close your eyes."

"Can you feel this?" She touches each of his fingers in turn.

"Yes."

"And this?" she pinches him.

"Yes."

"Open your eyes." He opens them to see that priestess is pinching him quite hard.

"Oh." He looks dismayed.

She suspects she does not have the equipment to fix this properly, but there is little choice. "I'm going to numb you." She gives him an injection. "You have nerve damage. Let us pray it is due to swelling caused by your secondary wounds. If anything is severed, it will take you a long time to heal."

"We don't have a long time." He says, and she looks away from the flat look in his eyes, concentrating on the wound.

"This will hurt, brace yourself." She starts probing the wound.

"You must love your daughter." She says, distracting him while she checks what muscles are torn, manipulating his arm.

"Why do you say that?" His voice is strained.

"Lean back." She shines a light into the wound, relieved that the cut was from a sharp knife. She pries it open to clean it and check the damage. "You came off that train with this wound. If you had not taken the first impact with your own body she would have died. You used that shoulder and arm as a cage of protection. It was a terrible wound to start with."

"True."

It seems only a single muscle sustained significant damage from the knife, it only clipped the others and slid around the bones, but the subsequent strains Priest put on his body have torn the muscles, leaving it a swollen mess, difficult to heal. She injects holy salve straight into it, and he stiffens, even with the pain killers at work. "You strained your body to it's utmost, to see to it that she has nothing more than a sprained knee and a few scrapes, while a Priest's body is torn."

"Yes." He admits, breathing reflexively against the pain while Priestess stitches him up. "I love her very much. I couldn't stop just because the Church told me to. It seemed a greater sin than disobedience."

"Then I can understand why you risked the loss of your left arm for her."

"There was no other choice."

"You mustn't use this arm for anything heavy, but you must bend it every few hours for the next few days, or the salve will heal everything into a solid lump of scar. You will have to keep it clean. We may not sicken easily, but an infection in the bone is beyond my ability to treat. Do not risk it."

She finishes the stitching and gives it a last clean, wiping away the few fresh drops of blood that leak from it. "Until you are healed I will be your left arm. Call on me, I will be there for you. "

"I will."

A sterile pad and a soft bandage complete her treatment on Priest's shoulder.

"The last thing to do is set your nose. Leave it any longer, and it'll heal like that."

"I'm glad it's you then. You have a way with broken noses."

She feels his nose carefully to find the edges of broken bone. It's a simple break. Then she looks to check if he is prepared, to find him looking at her, eyes gentle on her wounds. She closes her eyes against such a gaze. "Ready?" She asks, and he says a quiet yes. She opens her eyes and presses precisely and hard. His nose crunches back into alignment, and she puts a cooling strip on it to stop any further swelling. He sits there motionless, too exhausted to even tense against the pain.

"You're tough." She brings out the bandages and seals in the salve onto his other wounds. "But you shouldn't have ridden so far without treatment, your scars will be ragged."

"And ache in the cold. Yes, I've done this before." If he sounded tired before, he sounds exhausted now.

"As have I." She turns to her supplies, worried for him. "An ache like that can bring back bad memories at bad times. It would be better not to make another. Why did you conceal it from me?"

"There was too much yet to be done." He says, stating a fact.

Her deft fingers are cool on his minor wounds, spreading a more mundane salve, antiseptic and soothing. He speaks again, surprising her with his openness.

"They do not only bring pain. I bear them almost happily sometimes."

"Yes. A reminder everything that was done to us was not for nothing. It was in fact barely enough."

"Yes. That too." He looks almost sadly at her. He is wearing civilian clothing. Somehow it is harder to look as him now, as he looks like a man, than it was as he was naked, bathing. As a final ministration she makes a sling for him and adjusts it so the weight of his arm will not pull against his shoulder wound.

Priest watches her pack away the remains of her first aid kit. "Thank you." He says.

"Time to sleep. Tomorrow, we move." He says, a little of his sternness returning. Then he gets to his feet slowly.

The Priesthood no longer ate the divine food of the church, no longer slept in the consecrated beds. They all felt a slowness to replenish their strength that had nothing to do with age. Age touched lightly on surviving Priests. With care, Priestess opens the portal to the basement. There is a soft glow from a lantern barely emitting power. The two descend into the basement easily. It is cold, but dry.

Hicks and Lucy are wrapped around one another, curled in a nest of blankets, fast asleep. At the light and noise Hicks stirs enough to start awake in fear, then realises that Lucy is in his arms, and calms again, touching her hair.

"Priest." He whispers.

Priest smiles a little. "It's all right. Keep her safe. We'll talk in the morning."

"Yes, sir." Hicks whispers, heartfelt. Then he closes his eyes again.

Priest lowers himself carefully onto a cot, fresh sheets laid over it, smelling faintly of lavender. The Priestess tucks him in, taking care to make sure his shoulder is comfortable. She goes and sits, eyes away from the light, towards the door. The Priest falls almost instantly asleep. His dreams are dark and confused, filled with violence and fresh painful memories.

End Ch 1. So, too emo? How are the characterisations?


	2. Chapter 2

Thankyou to Danae L Black, Chades and Genius-626 for your (very positive) reviews. It's really nice to get such thoughtful feedback.

Ch 2: Nightmares.

Priest walks the halls of Sola Mira, his unit beside and behind him in the halls. The hive is quiet, strangely quiet. It doesn't feel right. Suddenly the entirety of the hive descends upon them, crawling down the walls, out of the ground. Everyone runs, cutting through vampires, trying to stay together. It's desperate, and claustrophobic. Running, scrambling. Was everyone still here? Had some fallen in the chaotic melee? They were almost at the exit, familiar faces passed out into safety. One is left behind, is grabbed by a vampire, is falling. No! Priest reaches back into the Hive. Their hands meet, his grip falters. No!

Then suddenly, a new twist.

The man who became Black Hat grabs him with unnatural strength. Priest couldn't let go if he wanted to. As Priest pulls him closer, the other Priest's eyes flash yellow and he grins a ghastly grin, saying "Join me. All your desires will be yours for the taking. I'll even forgive you." Chilled, Priest lets go and watches the grin turn savage as it disappears into the darkness of the Hive.

"No."

Suddenly he standing on the roof of the vampire train racing towards Cathedral City. The Black Hatted abomination is holding a limp body, neck open for the biting, this time it isn't Lucy, it is Priestess. He leaps, but cannot reach them before she is bitten. "No." He watches helpless, his strength drained from him as Priestess' blood is drained from her. Then she stands and turns to face him, and her eyes are golden. "No more self-sacrifice." She says. "Join us." Black Hat and her own eyes beckon him toward a life of savage delights.

"No!"

He wakes suddenly, his shoulder throbbing. There's a hand holding his own and he grabs it convulsively. Coming to his senses, he quickly realises that is it Priestess' hand and lets go. "Priestess." He whispers, catching his breath.

"Your nightmares are not quiet." She says softly, then. "It's about time to move your shoulder anyway. I'll start with your fingers and move on up the arm through your shoulder. Try to relax."

"Of course." Priest says, and he does as told, watching her without break as a distraction him from his nightmares, thankful for the pain. Priestess is careful never to meet his eyes, looking only to his wounds, her touch professional. The wounds hurt, a deep wrong feeling of pain, caused both by the salve and the sick feeling of damaged flesh. It's strangely appropriate, given his state of mind. It doesn't take long to complete the movements, and when it's over Priestess lays another blanket over him. To delay her leaving he says. "Remember in the Winter, preparing to attack the Leviathan Hive? We all shared blankets."

"Of course, I spent it back to back with you."

"I didn't trust anyone else to be warm enough." He feels he should be honest, here in the darkness.

"I always did get cold easily." She says, still looking away, her face calm. He's both grateful and sad. Then she looks up to say. "Can you sleep? I'll need to wake you again in a few hours."

"Yes." He says, though it's most likely a lie, and she moves away those scant few meters, goes back to cleaning her gear. He watches her a while before his mind drifts off again, lulled by her calm, precise movements, familiar and steady.

Some time later he is awakened again. This time the nightmares have been quieter, but no less bad. Lucy was being pulled away down the train by the Black Hat. Priest endlessly chased and chased them, never catching up to her pleading, tear-stained face. It's reassuring to see her sleeping face in the lamp-light. She sleeps the quiet sleep of the exhausted.

He continues watching Lucy as Priestess repeats her treatment with his shoulder. The pain is hot this time. If he had not used the salve on previous occasions he'd be scared it was an infection, but he knows that this is just the way it works. He tries not to think of the knife and the face of the man - the monster - who put it there every time the wound gives a stab of pain.

Instead of going again, the Priestess lies down next to him on the cot, shoulder to shoulder. Priest is about to protest when she whispers. "Hicks is on watch, and it's time I slept. I don't want my nightmares to waken anyone. Company is working for Lucy."

"She too exhausted to be disturbed." Priest looks over at her again, where her brow is crumpled. It smooths again when Hicks reaches out and strokes her hair gently.

Priestess looks over at Hicks. "That's what I thought, but she whimpers from time to time. Hicks presence is what calms her." Priest moves over to give Priestess room on his cot. They lie in silence a time.

"Why did you offer to become my sparring partner, that first time?" He can't help but ask, quietly enough to keep it private of Hicks, knowing the answer would be dangerous.

"Pity. You were old for a new recruit. You didn't understand the ways of the Priests. You looked so lost."

"Is that so?" He had never thought himself pitiable.

"Yes. And I wanted to stop you looking at me like I was a child. Once I'd beaten you, I saw it was your kindness that stopped you from hurting me, not your pity."

"At first I did pity you." He says, remembering his first sight of a gangly skinny-looking teen. "Because you were so young. I thought the Church cruel for taking you, no matter your gifts." He pauses, remembering the first time he saw her train with a rope. "I quickly learned that you were more capable than many Priests, let alone recruits. The only reason I didn't stop sparring with you was because you looked lonely. As lonely as I felt."

"Perhaps I was." She says. "But, I have comrades now. I never feel quite so alone any more."

Priest's eyes close and he gives a sigh, feeling relief at the sentiment behind her comments. "That's true." He drifts back to off to sleep. Priestess is right, having a companion makes it easier to forget enough of the bad things to be able to sleep again.

The Priestess is in his arms. She's warm, the softness of her womanhood not erased by the tautness of her trained body. Her hair has the faint scent of her, and nothing else. She fits against him perfectly, their bodies have a melded warmth where they touch. He knows he should push her away, but it feels too good. His heart beats faster. She stirs against him, her chest soft against his own.

"Please." Is all she says, eyes dark and beautiful. It is enough to still him when she kisses him. It feels so sweet that it aches. She touches him then, her fingers against the skin of his chest, tracing the line of a scar so tenderly, almost possessively.

She says something then about skin, and then her clothing is being removed. His mind is filled with sensations of her. His lips find her skin, and it's strangely the same as with Shannon, in dusty memories, the same warmth and closeness.

He rolls them both over, the ache of his urgent body too much to suppress any longer. There is no clothing left between them. It's so difficult and yet so simple to take the next step. She gasps in shock, her eyes full of betrayal. His blood runs cold instantly, and his eyes snap open. Sunlight streams through the open trap door. His shoulder hurts. The bed is cold where she lay.

He takes a few slow breaths to master his body. The aches and pains of the previous day make themselves known again as he moves. He carefully moves himself, sitting up, testing each wound gently, stretching his shoulder carefully, as Priestess has told him to. A dream like that is it's own punishment, but he prays in penance anyway. Somehow it feels like he's looking for forgiveness in the wrong place.

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><p><p>

Hmm, not sure whether that's the right place to end the chapter. Should I move the last paragraph to the next chapter? Also, I hope the dream sequence is not too explicit. Let me know, I'll tone it down further if I must.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Lady Krystalyn, Danae L Black, Chades, Genius-626: I thank you all for your continuing wonderful, thoughtful reviews. I'm trying to take all your encouragement and advice to heart.

I expanded the Lucy/Priest conversation because Danae reminded me that I don't want to leave Lucy and Hicks behind, tell me if I over compensated :). I'm not as confident about how Lucy should react "Hi I'm your bad-ass tattooed absent father" is a pretty big bomb-shell.

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><p><p>

**Chapter 3 Father.**

Priest stands carefully, testing his balance and how his wounds might pull as he moves, figuring out how to face the day. He looks up as Lucy comes down into the cellar, holding a bundle of cloth. An awkward person for him to see right now. He stands cramped under the close ceiling and says. "Good morning. How are you?"

"Shouldn't I ask you that?" She says, handing him his Priestly garments.

His bruises have bloomed into rainbows, his face probably looks a fright with his broken nose. He puts the clothing down on his cot and turns to talk to her. "Much better. I've had worse. "

"Yeah, you kind of look like it." She says, looking at the pale scars that criss-cross his flesh, reaching up to touch one on his cheek. He takes her hand in his own, and pulls it off his face, not wanting her to touch his scars. He didn't have them when he left her as a baby. He looks at their hands together. It's an odd juxtaposition. Her hand young and unmarked, his own calloused and beaten. Both with the same long fingers and strong bones.

"I'm sorry. I'm a poor excuse for a father."

"You are, for saying that." He looks at her and sees that she's upset. "You saved me. I thought I'd lost everyone, and I thought I was going to die alone. But you saved me, you and Hicks. That means something, right?"

"There would be no point to any of this if I hadn't come for you." he confesses.

"Really?" She asks, and he nods. Lucy steps forward and hugs him, awkwardly, trying to avoid his wounds. Priest freezes, unsure what to do, or feel.

"Don't push me away." Lucy says, her face on his chest. "You're not an untouchable. You're my father. So suck it up and let me hug you, ok?" He relents then, and puts his arms around her, kissing her hair then tucking her head under his cheek. It's so sad and so wonderful to realise that she's grown up, a strong young woman. "Lucy." he sighs.

"I don't know what to call you." She says. "Papa was Papa."

"I became a Priest a long time ago, there isn't any going back from that."

She releases him, takes a step back. "You saying you're never going to call me Daddy's little girl? I'm ok with that."

"I'm saying that I'm a Priest, and there's a war coming with the vampires." He says gently, watching her reaction, worried.

She smiles a little, sadly. "Then that's a good thing. Because you've survived everything until now. So you'll survive this too. Right?"

"I can't make promises like that. But I'll be trying my best." There's a sadness in his eyes as he says it.

"Ok then." Lucy leans in again and rests her head against his uninjured shoulder. "Isn't there anywhere safe?"

"Not for me. But for you, I sorely hope so."

"Then stay with me." Her eyes plead with him.

"I can't. You will stay with Hicks." She looks scared so he continues quickly.

"Myself and the Priestess are going to meet with others like ourselves, to survey the train line. We will be quicker alone, and you will be safer without us. If you hide, the Church will not find you, nor will the vampires. Trust Hicks, he has good instincts. Trust your own too. I will come back, soon, once we know more of how to fight this war."

"Yes, sir." She stands to attention. Priest looks nonplussed and she explains. "I'm stuck in this war too. Might as well fight. That means I'm a soldier, right?"

"Soldiers aren't the only roles in a war. There are weapon-smiths and supply trains, cooks and support staff. I'm not saying don't fight against the vampires, and I'm not saying don't train for combat. But please, please stay out of danger, there's a reason we make strongholds like this, use them."

She nods. "I can't make promises like that, but I'll be trying my best."

"You remind me of your mother. May she rest in peace."

Lucy nods, tears springing to her eyes. "Will you pray with me? For both of them?"

"I'm no longer... I was excommunicated."

"But, God will understand. Won't he?"

Hesitantly, Priest extends his hands, and Lucy takes them. As they stand with eyes closed, Priest repeats the rites taught to him long ago by the Church. He resents that he can't give his own words to God, but he does his best to convey his feelings through the codified sentences, binding his pain and hope and grief together to tell them how sorry he was that he couldn't have done more, and hope that they are at peace. Through it all he's careful not to squeeze Lucy's hands as she squeezes his, gripping hard against the anguish of lost loved ones.

When it's over Lucy sniffs and lets go of his hands."Thank you. That meant a lot to me."

"Me too. I'm sorry. I'm sorry this was how you met me."

"Me too. I wish you could've visited more. When you were my last hope, all I could remember was a sad man with a cross who didn't like hugs." Priest has no idea what to say to that.

Lucy straightens up and wipes her eyes quickly. "Hicks is cooking breakfast. I'll let you get changed."

As she goes Priestess comes down with bandages to re-bind his wounds. Priest strips off his shirt without ceremony. Priestess is gratifyingly efficient. "It's healing nicely. The bleeding has stopped. Don't pull it riding today."

"How is Lucy?

"She asked about you. I told her what I could. She's strong. If Hicks continues to look out for her, she'll recover from her kidnapping just fine."

"Good. Did you ask her about the Black Hat's plans?"

"Yes. She wasn't able to say much, just that he called himself the 'bringer of the tide'. It's as we thought. They are coming."

"Thank you." He says, and she nods acceptance.

"I'll see you upstairs." Priestess says, leaving with the dirty wound dressings.

Priest dresses quickly and goes up into the house. Breakfast is quiet in the early morning light. After they've eaten, the Priests discuss strategy with Hicks. Presently Priestess starts outlining movements on a map. "We'll be riding out following the train line. Some of the other Priests will ride past the ruins between Cathedral City and Jericho on their way to Dan's Town. It's a fly speck town on the train line, opposite direction from Cathedral City on the same line."

Priest continues, pointing to the West. "If you find a good pair of bikes, or a bike and desert buggy, take them back to the Outposts. Don't take a lone bike into the desert, broken bikes kill stranded travellers. When you get there, warn the people. Help them build good strong-rooms."

Priestess finishes. "No matter what happens, don't go to Cathedral City, none of the Cities. It will be where the fighting is most terrible. Harvest by day, hide by night, and the outer towns will make it through a long time without need for help from the Church. Warn the towns, tell them to stay away from train lines. See if they can divert trains away from towns. We don't want to blow up any more tracks if we can help it."

Hicks nods. "A sound plan, it's what I would've suggested to do. We'll have to cull the local herds. Can't keep 'em all safe. Don't want to have them feeding vampires any more than they have."

Priest nods. "A final thing. Protect Lucy above all else. Don't sleep on duty, don't rescue fools who don't hide before sundown and don't forget to lock doors behind you."

"Just who do you think I am to her?" Hicks sits up stiffly.

Priest smooths his eyebrow, a self recriminating gesture. "Not her father."

"I'll take good care of her sir. On my oath."

"I know you will. I just don't want you to be a hero. That goes for both of you. This is a war now. Your own safety is paramount." His eyes are hard on Hick and Lucy both. They look at one another and nod.

Priestess says. "Vampires travel in packs. They call to one another. Hide somewhere strong and they will flee from the Sun eventually. They aren't suicidal, just hungry."

They go over a few more details of ammo and communications, about how to keep the Church off their trail until they're sure the Church won't be hunting them. Then they're stocked up well, packed and riding off, quickly, the Sun still low in the sky, the heat climbing fast.

"Keep yourself safe and I'll see you again soon. In less than a week."

She says a quiet goodbye and squeezes his hand. When they ride away, she has dry eyes still. But she grips Hick's jacket, as though it's all that's keeping her upright.

Then Priest looks out across the desert, riding in the wake of Priestess as they speed up the train line past the shadow of Sola Mira and towards the mountains and the mines.

* * *

><p><p>

What do you think? Was Lucy all right? Should I show Lucy and Hick's journey next or continue on with Priest and Priestess? Also, what do Priests CALL one another? Should they have Roman numerals or other church-given designations? Do they take their hometown names eg 'Priest of Augustine'? Do they call each other by their actual names? In which case.. what is Priest's name? o.0 and Priestess' for that matter. Does the Church give them biblical names, like with Nuns?

PS: I'm not aiming to go into gore too much with future fight sequences, so the dream sequence is probably the most rating-worthy bit in the whole thing. Could it drop to PG13? More people will see it that way, but I don't want to offend people.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Dear reviewers, it's so nice that you continue to comment on each chapter. :) Your feedback is really helping me shape this story.

Also, Gyyeee~! I've bitten off more than I can chew. There's this whole epic storyline baking in my brain and I think it's too big an idea to fit the bread tin, and it's oozing out the sizes in a big mess... much like my analogy.

Anyway, by popular demand this'll be a long chapter, containing all four main characters.

* * *

>As to the 'why name at all?' question, a whole cadre of Priests and Priestesses are turning up, so I gotta go with SOME sort of designation, because 'Slicer Dicer' 'The Hulk' and 'Scar-face' are probably not what Priest and Priestess would call them. Hence, designations for combat situations (I looked up Biblical numerology) plus biblical names for churchly situations. -update 209/11 Reposted with slightly different naming, adjusted for clarity.

* * *

><strong>Ch Five The Vectors of Infection. <strong>

Hick's sheriff bike is well maintained and fast, and it keeps up with the Priest's bike easily. He and Priestess make good time. Before noon they come upon Dan's Town. A way stop to Jericho, further up towards the mines but still on the plains. A fly speck servicing the mining trains. Priest sees another single dust trail converging with them over the plain.

All three park the bikes at the outskirts of the silent town, dismounting and unfolding solar panels before greeting one another. The other Priest is a familiar face, from the Northern cadre of Priests. He's a tall slender gentleman, and underneath his straw boater hat, a claw scar rakes across his face, breaking the outline of the Cross.

"Well met." He says, saluting with a flourish and a smile. "The infamous Octus Sexagensimus, and his colleague Mary."

Priestess feels like she's at the butt of some strange joke. "Please, call us both by our Consecrated names or both by our ordinal designations."

He makes a little bow and doffs his hat to her. "M'lady Thirty-nine. That would make me C-4, but I'd prefer Joseph."

Priest steps forwards and extends a hand. "I haven't seen you since the cleansing of San Colero."

C-4 - Joseph clasps Priest's hand and nods. "It has been long. I am sorry we meet again in such poor circumstances."

"As am I."

Joseph grins. "I saw what you did on the way to Jericho. Big mess, Church found it." Priestess looks concerned. "Didn't see me. I tell you, sniper rifles are a gift from God."

Priest frowns. "Guns need ammo. Moreover, gunpowder smells like humans and gunfire sounds like a dinner bell."

Joseph gives a little flourish of shrug, "That's of no concern if you're too far off to smell, and dinner's at the far end of a hail of lead." He shrugs a single shoulder. "As to ammo? Muscles need food and oxygen, knives need honing. There's isn't a weapon anywhere that doesn't need replenishing. "

Priest looks Joseph in the eyes. "I'm not saying don't use it. Just don't use it in a way that gets anyone killed. Our cadre lost our sniper scout early on. Wasn't pretty."

"Yes sir, Priest Sixty-Eight." says Joseph, and though his mouth is serious, his eyes dance to a mad jig of mirth. He gives the disturbing impression of being two steps away from insanity.

This is when they notice two more Priests approaching out of the ruins of Dan's Town. A mismatched pair, one average height, whip-cord thin and long limbed, his garments a faded grey, the other tall, hulking and tanned. It is strange meeting with other Priests. They all feel they should be able to trust one another, but they know that it is incredibly difficult to break from the Church. They are aware there may be a traitor among them. It is difficult to think that thought, and yet it's difficult to be certain that any other than the instigator is here for pure purposes.

Priestess steps forward to greet them, giving the traditional salute.

"Priest A-Five." She says, and the shorter bows with a bird-like dip of a movement.

"Priest Forty." The wall of muscles shifts in acknowledgement.

"I am grateful that you answered our call."

Slender A-Five speaks for the two new arrivals. "Three-Nine, Eight-Six, C-Four." They salute in kind, Joseph giving a smiling 'call me Joseph'.

A-Five continues. "We couldn't stay passive as vampires threaten. I saw the work you did on the train outside Cathedral City. It'll be some time before the tracks are back in proper order. But from what I've seen in this town, that's a good thing."

Priest nods. "We know there is a Hive Queen still on the loose, and an army is ready to attack. They're most likely on the train lines."

The hulking Forty speaks this time, his voice rumbling like thunder. "The only reason I haven't been out torching reservations until now is because I didn't want to burn along with the vamps. I hate them more than I care about anything else. So I'm all ears. What's the plan for shredding vampires?"

"There was a new type of enemy. A Hive Queen infected someone at the end of the last war. He has designed an attack using human tactics, it won't be like anything we've seen before. We need to find out where the rest of the army is, and what it's doing, especially the Queen. We have to cripple them, stop them getting to the cities."

A-Five looks grim as he says. "You should see what we found in the train yard."

They walk through town. Dan's Town is just as Jericho was, obliterated. Burnt, rent, blood splattered. With the addition of a coating of wind-blown dust. The other Priests' work could be seen in the neatly lined up bodies, faces covered by cloth. Shortly they see the train-yards. Priest and Priestess stand together, surveying it with wary eyes.

Priest squints against the glare and says. "This is much worse than we feared."

-888-

The Wastes are wide, sometimes ancient cities rise up out of the blowing sands, hinting at time long past, when glorious structures of glass and metal towered glittering into the sky. The Desert bakes under a hot wind. Lucy and Hicks hide from the heat and sand under a rocky promontory overlooking a line of half-fallen wire towers. Were they communications towers? From where to where? It was one of those mysteries of the past that no-one seemed to have answers for.

Nearby they have a buggy recharging in the sun. The bike runs on alcohol, and has lain in reserve, the two of them riding in the buggy until now. The batteries started flagging just as the Sun approached midday.

"Next town should only be an hour."

Lucy take a drink of water then says. "You really think they'll be back in a week?"

Hicks shrugs. "Maybe. Plans don't live long once they hit dirt."

"I didn't think so." She looks oddly detached as she says it. It worries Hicks.

He hold her shoulder a moment and says. "Don't worry. Soon as the Church comes around, they'll be able to use open communications. We'll hear from them. We'll know what they're up to. Even if they can't come home that quick, we'll know where they are."

She picks at her food. "That's if we are somewhere we can receive calls."

"What do you mean? All the outposts have access to the main network."

"Yes. Right now. But the vampires have been taught about things like that now. They'll know, so they'll break it. We'll have to use Wastelands radios. See if we can find one at the next outpost, ok?"

"Did the Black Hat tell you this?"

Lucy shakes her head. "I spent a week with him. I know that the plan is to cause chaos. To break everything apart into a million piece then watch the pieces glitter as they fall. The best way to do that is to stop us helping one another. Cut food lines, cut communications, scatter us, make us hungry and scared and we'll die like squashed ants."

"Why didn't you say this to Priest?"

"He already knows. He didn't want to say anything in front of me. Besides, we don't know exactly what the vampires will do and when. There wasn't any special warning he could give us."

They eat in silence for a minute, finishing up, dusting off crumbs. Hicks tries to comfort Lucy one more time. "Maybe you're over thinking it. Why would Priest say he'd be back in a week?"

Lucy gets up, goes back to the buggy.

"Because this is all going to go quickly. You don't reveal your hand in poker unless you're sure you'll win. The vampire army is already on it's way. If the Priests don't stop them within a week, then it's all over. The Cities fall."

-888-

Priest looks around the train yard workshops. They've been stripped bare. A few dead Familiars lie where they are pinned by fallen machinery. The vampires had definitely taken their train from here, it was a modified mining train.

The muscle bound Forty stands guard while A-Five points a long finger around at the odd features of the train yard. "This is a repair yard. There should be maintenance staff in these cottages along this row here. I don't see them dead anywhere. They are most likely Familiars now."

Priest looks grim. "There aren't any trains here. This place is the way stop from the Cathedral City foundries, this is a major fitting yard for the coal mine fleet. There should be trains in each of the switch-yard docks."

"There's something else too." A-Five calls him over. "We found something strange. It makes sense in light of your information about the Hive Queen." He shows them into one of the building. In among the vampire scratches there are boot tracks outlined in blood. Calm, measured boot tracks, as of someone swaggering like a boss.

Priest crouches down and examines the shape. "This was him." He says, referring to the man in the Black Hat. "These others? Who knows."

The are maps scratched onto the walls in blood and notes tacked onto pieces of paper and driven into the wall with nails. Some - perversely in the surrounding carnage - are put into a waste paper bin.

A-Five stirs a long-fingered hand through the discarded notes. "One does not communicate with vampires with maps and notes. One does not discuss attack plans like this with Familiars. Nor Hive Queens, for that matter."

Priest and Priestess look at one another. She crosses herself and turns away. He says. "He was only the first."

She replies. "He might not even have been the strongest."

A-Five speaks for the three curious Priests."Who?"

Priest addresses the wall as he says. "The new threat we mentioned, he was once a Priest of our cadre. He fell in one of the last battles, at Sola Mira. He did not die, he was given the blood of a Hive Queen, became a monster unlike anything we're seen before."

A murmur of shocked sound goes amongst the other Priests. Priest continues.

"It didn't make him a Familiar, a slave. It made a monster. It took his humanity, gave him thirst and strength. Strong and fast as a vampire, mind of a depraved criminal. But he remembered everything, his life and desires."

Even Joseph looks a little disturbed by this. "If we face others like him..."

Priestess looks him in the eyes. "Then it means that we face opponents who are stronger, faster and perhaps even smarter than we are. We won't be facing predatory animals in hunting packs, we'll be facing insane criminal minds. Monsters who can walk in daylight and see in darkness, and who taste blood because they enjoy it."

A-Five says. "How do we fight that?"

Joseph scratches his head. "I don't feel like having any unhappy reunions neither."

"Worse. They know the Cities, they know how human technology works. They can pass as human if you don't look too close. They can shoot guns, and they like killing, and they won't care who."

"We don't even know how many there are."

Joseph chips in with a jaunty shrug. "Well, how many Priests fell in those final days and weren't recovered? How many people since then were picked off by vampires and no one ever found the bodies?"

Priest says. "Once they had Black Hat, they could've picked and chosen an elite class of leaders for the new vampire army over time, building a core of strong leaders. And they've had years."

A-Five whistles through his teeth. "This is worse than we thought."

Joseph retorts. "This is worse than the Church can handle."

Priest looks at the map again. The lines split after Dan's Town, going to the mountains in the north, and trekking across the West, going to other outposts. To the East is connects to the string of Cities along the coast. Eventually, through other connections, it connects with the whole rail network, a spider web across the land from edge to edge.

Priest says. "We ride on, now. Find these trains, stop them."

A-Five says what they are all thinking. "We have to warn the Cities. Tell them what we've found." They all look at one another uncertainly.

Joseph mouth twitches upwards as he spins to look at each in turn. "We're all thinking about how we cannot trust one another. It is a hard thing to think of fellow Priests. Isn't it?"

A-Five comes up with a plan. "We make contact with the Cities now, then we stay close together until we find our first vampire coterie. After that, we will know. Only turn-coats and cowards would not stand beside one another in that situation. And no coward would come here today."

Priest consents. "After that we'll know that all of us go against the Church only because the Church will not go against the vampires. We know what it is like to fight vampires. We are the only ones. We stay in one another's sight until we stand together, and we will know."

Priest steps back. "Priestess, our strategy please."

She steps forwards and holds up her walkie talkie. "We have the equipment to communicate over large distances, so we gain more members we can split up into groups, cover large areas and report on what we find, use our bikes to quickly divert our forces to new threats. The only reason we do not broadcast now is because the Church has not yet declared war on the vampires again. Until then, we must assume they consider us a threat, and will be hunting us down."

"Once we make any call with them, we'll be triangulated. This doesn't mean we don't call. It means we only call from places where we want the Church forces to descend upon, and know they'll pursue us from then on. Battered towns, infestations. Anything we can't handle, we call. Then we

run. Fast."

A-Five narrows his eyes. "The Church will see the situation quickly. They'll take up arms against the vampires. If they call us back to the fold, do we go?"

"We'll come to that when it happens." Priest says.

Priestess continues. "After the Church's declares war, we can call freely, they'll need us as allies. We monitor the official communications. As soon as they declare war, we can come into the open, plan via long distance, be a dynamic strike force."

Priest strides over to the board, then turns around. "Strategy time. So, does everyone here have experience with attacking moving trains?"

- – -

to be continued.

So, I don't think that the whole 'no guns' thing makes sense on its own. Guns are designed for killing the enemy before they're in melee range. Since vampires only have melee weapons, it means a no risk kill. As Priest showed, he's capable with every weapon ever. So, vampires honing in on the smell and sound of guns is a good explanation as any for why Priests don't (usually) use them. Why'd he not tell Hicks in the movie? Hicks made good bait (oooh, uncool).

Also! Are you guys happy for the next chapter to be purely about the ride out from Dan's town and the assault upon the first train?


End file.
